The Dangerous Game
by Violet Lolita
Summary: With the Courier's help, the Legion won the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. Now, the Legion must continue their efforts to drive the NCR from the Mojave Wasteland. Contains mature themes: sex, cannibalism, and graphic violence. Pairing: f!Courier/Vulpes.
1. A New World

**"Frumentarii, Courier—whatever you are now… [beyond the Hoover Dam] lies a symbol of a two-headed bear, an idea great enough to challenge Caesar himself. Might kill him, taking it, whether he won or lost. The Bull needs to fight, needs the challenge, without it…it falters, dies in the dust" – Ulysses, Lonesome Road**

—

Delilah, better known as Lilah, found herself feeling exposed by the amounts of attention being given to her as she climbed the steps of Fortification Hill. She had come back from Hoover Dam victorious, and the word of the Legion's triumph had already reached the legionaries who had stayed behind to protect their leader. The legionaries applauded her as she walked by, greeting her with the familiar words of _ave_ and _true to Caesar_. It was vastly different from the quiet repose she had previously associated with the camp.

The path up the hill was steep, but it was nothing compared to seemingly endless maze of stairs she had found at Hoover Dam. She recalled the dizzying confusion of the battle, how she had moved through each Power Plant clutching her gun tightly and forcing herself to concentrate to her objective and not on the combat that surrounded her. She had been there to kill the NCR's General Oliver, to leave the NCR with a open wound in command that would ensure Legion victory and the conquest of the Dam.

When she reached his compound, he had been standing on the second floor balcony looking down on her as if he had been waiting for her arrival. Not that it had mattered. She had no intention of trying to talk him down. He was knee-deep in the delusion that the NCR still had the possibility of holding onto the Hoover Dam, and she had determined to prove him wrong with the .44 Magnum in her hand.

She had no choice but to follow him deeper into the compound when he fled with his guards. As she crossed the room, she fired two rounds into an unsuspecting NCR soldier unlucky enough have been stationed on the ground floor wearing nothing more than the standard uniform. He died easily, too shocked by the impact of the bullet piercing his chest to fire an accurate shot at her. The NCR trained their soldiers well, but many, like the man whose body laid before her, lacked experience with actual combat. Lilah, on the other hand, was all instinct. She fought as if her fight or flight response had been triggered so many times that pulling the trigger of her gun was a compulsion.

She had found Oliver inside his office. Even without the protection of his guards, he had been ready to fight her. He had stood before her with his pistol drawn, even though he knew that the Magnum in her hand was stronger and faster than his own pistol. He had been the perfect image of old world military propaganda, a captain prepared to sink with his ship. In the end, it only took two bullets to bring him to the ground and a third shot in the head to kill him. Others might have let him bleed to death, but his death had never been personal. This was war, and she only hoped that he died with the realization that the blood of the NCR soldiers who died that day stained both Legion armor and his own hands.

After reaching Caesar's tent, Lilah was dislodged from her thoughts as one of the Praetorian guards greeted her with a nod. She didn't know his name, but she had seen him guarding the outside of the tent in the past. Taking in a breath, she pushed aside the tent flaps and made her way to where Caesar sat on his throne.

The tent, always guarded on the inside by soldiers, was empty. Relaxing back into his throne, Caesar addressed her, "I hear Oliver fought until the end."

Lilah nodded and replied, "I suppose the remaining NCR troops will laud him as a hero, as a man who clung to his pride and beliefs even in the face of his own inevitable defeat. He should have taken a hint from his guards and wore metal armor—would have made him a more difficult kill."

His reaction was a mixture of pleasure and amusement. "You have served us well, and your part in the victory at Hoover Dam will not be forgotten. But, as you know, this has only been the first hurdle in driving the NCR and what they stand for from the Mojave."

"What will you have me do next?" she asked.

"We will discuss that in a moment; there are other things we must attend to first, such as your place within the Legion. As you know, I don't allow women as soldiers. Women are considered property; they are healers and procreators. Unfortunately, most women come to us intent on holding onto their old world ways. That will change with time." He watched her face for a reaction, but only her eyes betrayed the worry that crept into her mind.

"Don't worry," he told her. "I have no intentions of holding you to the same standards I hold other women. You have proven yourself where most men would have failed. I am told even the Legate praised your actions at Hoover Dam, which I'm sure you can imagine does not happen very often. When you first stood before me, I admit I was hesitant about capabilities, even after hearing everything that had been reported back to me. But you have proven me wrong in so many ways."

At his pause, she replied with thanks but was still uncertain of where the conversation was heading.

He held eye contact with her as he continued, "You have, until now, been operating as an aide of the Legion but not a member of the Legion. I know you believe in my vision. Our goal now is to extend that vision across the Mojave. We will start with the Strip, tearing down the image of New Vegas decadence your former acquaintance Mr. House fought so hard to preserve. We will make examples of them—the addicts, the gamblers, the prostitutes—and, of course, anyone who dares to stand in our way".

The mention of House's name brought back a memory of the frail old man exposed from his tube. He had been an abomination; a man who thought he could defy the laws of nature with technology. Looking upon his deteriorating body had stirred up a mix of emotions. But, in the end, pity won, and she had given him a painless death by pressing the cool tip of her pistol to his forehead and pulling the trigger.

Caesar continued, "I want you and Vulpes to head to the Strip before I send troops in. Vulpes already has a plan in play with the Omertas there, and I want you to help him with the final arrangements. You will also be checking in on the White Glove Society and making sure they plan to uphold their agreement. Any individual you meet could have NCR sympathies, so I advise you to be careful. Vulpes has been given the task of ensuring you blend in as much as possible while conducting these tasks."

She preferred to work alone but didn't dare question Caesar's orders. She paused, thinking for a moment, before asking, "And what is my role within the Legion now?"

"You will serve under Vulpes as one of my Frumentarii. I suggest you keep in mind that he will be your direct superior from now on. He will punish you for any of your failures from here on out. You will begin travel tomorrow."

At his dismissal, she left the tent, only just realizing how tired she was when she began heading to the nearby tents. She might have once feared sleeping here, but she knew she was now too valuable to Caesar and the Legion for any of the lower ranks to risk assaulting her. Even Otho, who never failed to aim a sexist comment in her direction, had looked at her with a hint of respect when she entered the Fort.

By the time she reached the tents, she was too tired to remove her leather armor. She had worn it so often over the past few months that it felt like a second skin. The mat she chose to lay down upon was comfortable enough. She only wished there wasn't a tent between her and the night sky.


	2. Under the Mojave Sun

Lilah awoke to a hand shaking her shoulder and a cool voice that remarked, "You sleep awfully sound for a killer". Once the blurriness subsided, she found herself staring into the blue eyes of Vulpes Inculta.

She replied, "Was sleeping, you mean." Her body ached, but she did her best to ignore the pain as she sat up and turned to face him. He wore armor not unlike hers; it was the kind some mercenaries chose to wear, opting for leather instead of metal.

He ignored her response and said, "We have a busy day, and few preparations that need to be taken care of here first."

She stood up clumsily, trying to maintain her balance as she rose from the ground. Sleeping in her armor had been a good idea after all, or else he'd be staring at her in a flimsy silk nightgown about now. "What's the plan?" she asked.

"We need to change your appearance," he replied. "There's not much we can do, but I've had some slaves prepare some dye for you." She didn't catch on that he was referring to hair dye, until he continued, "Take down your hair."

She undid the band that was holding her hair into a bun, revealing severely tangled flaxen blonde locks that extended just beyond her shoulder blades. She never bothered carrying a brush with her on her journeys. It only took up space in her bag, space that could be used for more important things. Besides, she almost never took her hair down anyway.

Seeing the knots in her hair, he commented, "The slaves will be able to help you with that. From here on out, you'll be expected to take care of your appearance." Before she could fit a word in, he said, "Follow me", and left the tent. She quickly grabbed her bag off the ground, appreciating, for once, how light it felt without her weapons in it, and followed behind him.

It was still fairly dark outside, but the sun had already begun to rise in the distance. Trailing behind Vulpes, she found herself face to face with Siri, who often went out of her way to make sure she was supplied with enough healing powder. Any notion Lilah had of greeting her or making it known that the two had contact before was smashed by the expression on the slave's face.

Siri turned to Vulpes, who nodded. At his signal, she spoke, "Some of the others are finishing with the dye. If you'll sit down, miss, I'll begin brushing your hair to get these tangles out." Lilah complied and sat down on a nearby chair. As Siri began brushing, she mentally winced at the pain that tore through her scalp but tried not to show any reaction on her face. She had always been tender-headed, even as a child when her mother used to brush her hair.

Vulpes looked at her and spoke, "I have some things to take care of. I'll be back shortly". He didn't wait for a response before turning on his heel and heading up in the direction of Caesar's tent.

When he was out of sight, Siri quietly asked, "Am I hurting you?"

"It's fine," Lilah replied. "Just tender-headed, that's all." As the slave continued to brush her hair, Lilah became lost in her thoughts. She wondered if Siri's kindness to her was genuine now that her actions at Hoover Dam had ensured the woman a life of slavery. Did the other slaves hate her? She supposed it didn't matter now. It was all for the better, for the greater good. The old world had driven the Mojave to madness-it had led to the bombs, to the wars, and to the bullet Benny had lodged in the back of her brain.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the feeling of cool paste being applied to the roots of her hair, smearing onto her forehead. Siri was gone, and another slave had taken her place, applying the dye using what looked like an old paintbrush. "Try to stay still or it might drip in your eyes," the slave told her as she placed an old rag around Lilah's shoulders to prevent the dye from dripping onto her armor.

With a quick exhale, Lilah obeyed. She had begun to sink back into her thoughts when Vulpes returned. Without even looking at her, he spoke to the slave, "Is she done?"

The slave politely replied, "Yes, sir. The dye will have finished setting by the time she goes to wash it out in the lake."

"Very well then," he said and motioned for Lilah to follow him.

As they walked, she did her best to make sure the rag stayed put on her shoulders. "Isn't the lake irradiated?" she asked when they reached the wooden doors to the outside.

"A little bit of radiation never hurt anyone," he countered. "Besides, I'm told the guards confiscated some Rad-Away you were carrying with you. You'll be able to get it back when we leave. Just keep in mind that any other medicinal paraphernalia is still strictly forbidden in most circumstances".

"Right," she said. They stood in front of the lake. "So...", she began, but Vulpes cut her off by handing her a bar of soap and a clean rag.

"I won't watch you, but I will stand guard," he said. "Make sure you scrub the dirt off your face. You need to look as presentable as possible for this mission."

He turned away from her and headed back up the hill towards the Fort's gate before she could get a word in. As she watched him leave, she wished she had said something, anything at all, to save face. But she hadn't, and she felt the knick in her ego as she walked closer to the water.

She glanced over in Vulpes' direction to make sure he wasn't watching before sitting down on the ground. Starting with her combat boots, she began undressing. Her head was beginning to itch from the dye, which had now splattered across her naked shoulders. Grabbing the bar of soap, she dipped one foot into the water temperature to find that the lake was lukewarm.

Carefully, she strode into the water. When she reached a deep enough spot, she submerged herself underwater, scrubbing her hair with the bar of soap when she came up from the water. The soap might have once smelled nice, but the years and radiation had stripped it down to a faint smell she thought might have been lavender. Still, it served its purpose, removing the dirt and oil from her skin as she lathered herself clean.

When she finished, she glanced once again back up where Vulpes was standing before leaving the water. After drying herself off with the rag, she returned to the water to dip the rag back in. As she crouched down, she could tell her hair was now a darker color, brown perhaps, but she would have to wait for the sun's rays to do their work before she could see the final result.

This time, she used the rag to wipe some of the dirt off her armor. However, the leather was so old and worn that it didn't make much of a difference. She didn't even bother trying to wipe the mud off her combat boots, instead dipping the soles into the water to remove some of the caked up dirt. With a sigh of defeat, she redressed and headed up the hill to where Vulpes was waiting.

"So, how do I look?" she asked, a hint of sarcasm entering her tone.

He turned around to face her, studying her before replying, "Better." The contrast between her skin and now-darker hair, combined with removal of dirt, made her look paler than before, though she still bore the telltale flush of someone who had spent time underneath the Mojave sun.

Inside the gate, the guard handed Lilah back her weapons and, with a stern look, her contraband Rad-X and Rad-Away. "What's next?" she asked. Vulpes It was still morning, but she knew they would have to leave sooner than later to reach New Vegas before sunset.

"We leave," he replied brusquely. "But we are not taking a direct route to New Vegas, nor will we be arriving there tonight. I have business in Cottonwood Cove that Caesar wants me to attend to first, and I must make sure you're fully prepared and able to complete this task."

Lilah frowned at his tone. He continued, "Cursor Lucullus will escort us to Cottonwood. I believe you've met before." Lilah glanced over at him but said nothing. Instead, she looked back at Vulpes and said, "I'm ready when you are."

—

It was a little past noon when Vulpes and Lilah departed Cottonwood Cove. Even as they left, Vulpes never revealed to her exactly what business was being conducted there. His discretion didn't surprise her in the slightest. He had no reason to trust her, save for the word of the Caesar alone. Her past interactions with him had been mostly neutral, and, although he seemed truly grateful when the Auto Doc successfully completed Caesar's surgery, it was one of the few times she had been able to pinpoint exactly what it was he had been feeling.

They walked in silence, with her following slightly behind him. He hadn't told her where they were heading, so she depended on him entirely for direction. It wasn't until they reached a small shack with a burnt-out campfire that she thought looked vaguely familiar that he stopped and spoke to her.

"We will be staying in Novac tonight. I don't expect to run into anyone on the road, but, if it happens, we are both travelling mercenaries heading to the Crimson Caravan Company to look for work. It's a simple enough story, you should be able to remember it," he said.

She felt a wave of annoyance wash over her. She bit back, "I'm not an idiot, you know."

If he was taken off-guard by her response, he didn't show it. "Of course not. I only question whether or not you're cut out for this type of work."

"You don't trust Caesar?"

"Since I was made the leader of the Frumentarii, Caesar has given me some say in who joins my ranks," he paused, considering his words.

"Until now?" she asked. "Look, I get that it must be frustrating for you, but I can assure you I'm very capable."

"It's not that. I know all about my men-their strengths and their weaknesses, how they fight, how well they lie-everything that matters when it comes to assigning them to tasks. I don't know anything about you, and now I'm expected to train you as a frumentarius when you haven't even gone through the training given to the lowest rank of legionaries."

Lilah bit back the urge to let out a sigh. "Alright, fair enough," she said, but knew it was a lie. She resented standing here, out in the middle of nowhere, having her capabilities questioned after all she had done for the Legion. "What do you want to do about it?"

He thought for a moment before responding. "We'll start with the basics. Always pronounce Caesar's name like _See_sar. Most people outside the Legion are ignorant as to the pronunciation. It's something that will give your cover away faster than anything else."

"Okay," she said. It seemed simple enough.

"How are you with that?" he said, indicating the machete holstered to her hip.

"Oh, uh, I've never used it," she replied. "Dead Sea gave it to me. I prefer guns. They're more accurate and efficient for kills."

As she spoke, her ears detected the familiar buzzing of a Cazadore approaching. Vulpes, however, gave no indication of having heard anything and continued speaking, "Legionaries are trained first in unarmed attacks and melee weapons. I don't expect you to change your fighting style, but be aware that knives can be just as effective as guns."

He reached for the knife at his belt, looking at the approaching Cazadore that was now only a few feet away. Without questioning himself, he threw the knife at the insect, piercing it directly in the middle of its abdomen and killing it instantly. He said nothing as he walked over to its corpse, pulling out the knife and wiping the guts away on its own wing.

Lilah tried to hide her amazement. "I guess that disproves the old adage _never bring a knife to a gunfight_," she commented, wondering briefly if he would teach her that skill.

"Fighting is a less important aspect of this mission," he said as he placed his knife back into its holster. "What's important here is your ability to follow my lead and pretend to be what I tell you to."

"Can you tell me more about the mission?" she asked. "Caesar didn't explain very much, just that I was to contact the White Glove Society and help you with the Omertas."

"I will later," he said. "We need to continue walking if we want to make Novac before the hotel closes." She pushed her bag higher up on her shoulder and continued behind him, trying to ignore the blistering hot sun that was still directly above them.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Please let me know if there's anything I can improve :)**


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